Beaudelet grumbled because Mariequita was there, taking up so much room.In reality he was annoyed at having old Monsieur Farival, who considered himself the better sailor of the two.But he he would not quarrel with so old a man as Monsieur Farival, so he quarreled with Mariequita.The girl was deprecatory at one moment, appealing to Robert.She was saucy the next, moving her head up and down, making "eyes" at Robert and making "mouths" at Beaudelet.
The lovers were all alone.They saw nothing, they heard nothing.The lady in black was counting her beads for the third time.Old Monsieur Farival talked incessantly of what he knew about handling a boat, and of what Beaudelet did not know on the same subject.
Edna liked it all.She looked Mariequita up and down, from her ugly brown toes to her pretty black eyes, and back again.
"Why does she look at me like that?" inquired the girl of Robert."Maybe she thinks you are pretty.Shall I ask her?""No.Is she your sweetheart?"
"She's a married lady, and has two children.""Oh! well! Francisco ran away with Sylvano's wife, who had four children.They took all his money and one of the children and stole his boat.""Shut up!"
"Does she understand?" "Oh, hush!"
"Are those two married over there--leaning on each other?" "Of course not," laughed Robert.
"Of course not," echoed Mariequita, with a serious, confirmatory bob of the head.
The sun was high up and beginning to bite.The swift breeze seemed to Edna to bury the sting of it into the pores of her face and hands.Robert held his umbrella over her.As they went cutting sidewise through the water, the sails bellied taut, with the wind filling and overflowing them.Old Monsieur Farival laughed sardonically at something as he looked at the sails, and Beaudelet swore at the old man under his breath.
Sailing across the bay to the Cheniere Caminada, Edna felt as if she were being borne away from some anchorage which had held her fast, whose chains had been loosening--had snapped the night before when the mystic spirit was abroad, leaving her free to drift whithersoever she chose to set her sails.Robert spoke to her incessantly; he no longer noticed Mariequita.The girl had shrimps in her bamboo basket.They were covered with Spanish moss.She beat the moss down impatiently, and muttered to herself sullenly.
"Let us go to Grande Terre to-morrow?" said Robert in a low voice."What shall we do there?""Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."She gazed away toward Grande Terre and thought she would like to be alone there with Robert, in the sun, listening to the ocean's roar and watching the slimy lizards writhe in and out among the ruins of the old fort.
"And the next day or the next we can sail to the Bayou Brulow," he went on.
"What shall we do there?" "Anything--cast bait for fish.""No; we'll go back to Grande Terre.Let the fish alone.""We'll go wherever you like," he said."I'll have Tonie come over and help me patch and trim my boat.We shall not need Beaudelet nor any one.Are you afraid of the pirogue?""Oh, no."
"Then I'll take you some night in the pirogue when the moon shines.Maybe your Gulf spirit will whisper to you in which of these islands the treasures are hidden--direct you to the very spot, perhaps.""And in a day we should be rich!" she laughed."I'd give it all to you, the pirate gold and every bit of treasure we could dig up.I think you would know how to spend it.Pirate gold isn't a thing to be hoarded or utilized.It is something to squander and throw to the four winds, for the fun of seeing the golden specks fly.""We'd share it, and scatter it together," he said.His face flushed.They all went together up to the quaint little Gothic church of OurLady of Lourdes, gleaming all brown and yellow with paint in the sun's glare.
Only Beaudelet remained behind, tinkering at his boat, and Mariequita walked away with her basket of shrimps, casting a look of childish ill humor and reproach at Robert from the corner of her eye.
